


An Introduction to Society

by aussiemel1



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6682153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aussiemel1/pseuds/aussiemel1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariadne invites the boys to a celebration at the palace.  Jason is dismayed then delighted.  Hercules is delighted then dismayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Introduction to Society

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after The Grey Sisters. I quite like that moment in time because there was such promise for Jason and Ariadne, such possibility for their future. This story is a little one-shot slice of life.

Jason was nervous as he approached the grand hall, a room of the palace he had never been invited to enter before. His experience of the palace was limited to a handful of rooms, and his attendance had almost always been fraught in nature, a matter of grave concern and not an opportunity to casually examine the surrounds, peer at the details. That he was moving through the corridors without haste, that he could take the opportunity to stop and examine, seemed strange. It gave him too much time to reflect on how different this visit was, that he was about to engage in a social event, something so foreign to him, that he was so ill prepared for, that his heart thumped harder than when he'd faced an enemy army.

He shot a sideways look at his friends, trying to gauge their mood, if they were as apprehensive as him about mingling with nobility. Pythagoras seemed unaffected, interested by the friezes on the walls, making comments about the stories they represented. And Hercules looked plain delighted to be in the palace about to attend a function, as if it was where he was meant to be. All three of them were resplendently dressed thanks to the generosity of Ariadne. She had provided material and a seamstress to outfit them, and Hercules was bursting with confidence in his finery, catching sight of himself in every reflective surface. The unusual extravagance in their appearance had the opposite effect on Jason, it felt false to him, like he was trying to be something he wasn't. And he really didn't like the fashion of the time. He was clothed in a chiton, essentially a floor length dress, a large rectangular piece of material that was folded around him and sewn down the side, held at his shoulders by a few stitches and a couple of gold brooches. It was made of sage green linen, fabric softer and finer than anything he had worn before in Atlantis, and pulled in at the waist with a wide leather belt. He had been urged by the seamstress to pull the material up and over the belt, shorten the length so that it came to his knees, and to him, it was the difference between wearing a dress or a skirt, both ways it was awful, flowing, and so feminine. Pythagoras had left his light blue tunic long to the ankle, but Hercules had reeled in so much of his royal blue colored cloth under his rotund stomach that it hung almost mid thigh, revealing chunky, hairy legs that Jason could hardly bear to look at. Jason had kept his chiton long and then donned trousers under the robe, he couldn't stand the feeling of nothing against his legs and knew it was going to distract him all night. He didn't tell his friends, fairly certain it would make him the subject of derision, from Hercules anyway.

They were attending a celebration in honour of Panathenaia. Even after two years in Atlantis Jason had trouble keeping up with all the celebrations and festivals, so many Gods to be lauded and appeased, but he did know that this was one of the big ones, a widely celebrated event, and he was both delighted and dismayed that Ariadne had sought to include him in it. No doubt she was trying to ease him into royal society ahead of their marriage. He could concede that it was thoughtful, and probably a sensible idea, but he felt no enthusiasm for being introduced to the upper echelon ahead of time. He wasn't skilled with people and didn't enjoy making small talk. He hadn't been much tested in a social setting since arriving in Atlantis, and he suspected his poor cultural knowledge was going to be exposed, and that he might have to create some fantasy history to avoid revealing he grew up in the future or an alternate universe or wherever the hell he came from. He would make the effort for Ariadne's sake but he would never feel confident or comfortable at a social event such as this. Especially clothed in a dress. And it was going to be a problem, he realized. Being married to a royal was going to involve society and diplomacy, conversation and tact, traits he didn't possess. All he wanted was the woman, what came with her was going to be a struggle.

As the three men entered the hall, a serving girl handed each of them a goblet of red wine. Hercules accepted it with good grace, turned to Jason and said, "Now this is the sort of occasion I can get behind. I am expecting better food and wine than I have ever tasted in my life. It should be the perfect evening."

Jason issued a distracted smile as his gaze travelled the room, taking in the details and looking for Ariadne. The room was rectangular and they had entered halfway into the length, with a square water feature in front of them, water trickling prettily from an urn held by a stone woman. At one end of the room was a raised area, a stage, reached by traversing a few steps, and a throne sat in the center, flanked by two guards. But the throne was empty, the queen was not at her royal position and it caused a flutter of concern in Jason, he battled with latent anxiety about Ariadne’s safety after being stabbed by Medea and wanted to lay eyes on her, assure himself she was fine.

Jason idly followed his friends as they penetrated the room, toward a banquet table against the opposite wall, but his eyes stayed on the crowd of more than a hundred people, filtering over them in search of Ariadne, a little dazzled by the riot of colour in the room, more accustomed to drab.

"Remember, you are nothing to her," Hercules stated sharply, as they halted next to an embarrassing amount of food. Jason glanced at the spread, then glanced at it again because there was more food and a wider variety than he had seen in a very long time. He frowned in passing offense at Hercules’ comment, and returned to the task of locating the queen.

"As far as anyone knows," Hercules added, like his statement had been challenged. "As far as anyone in this room knows, there is nothing between you and the queen."

Jason's eyes alighted on Ariadne, standing amongst a group of people, her crown making her stand out, the jewels flashing in the light. She was already looking in his direction and they exchanged a shy smile. Jason was startled when Hercules grabbed the material at his chest and forcibly turned him around, so that his back was to the Queen.

"Listen to me closely," Hercules said gruffly, releasing the tunic and smoothing the wrinkles. "You need to keep your little love affair a well kept secret, do you understand?"

"Yes," Jason replied impatiently, head edging around to catch sight of Ariadne again.

"No, see, I don't think you do," Hercules huffed. “You making lovey eyes at her across the room isn’t going to keep any secrets.” He slid his gaze to Pythagoras, upturning his palms in helpless appeal. "You want to add anything?"

"Not really," Pythagoras muttered, but fixed Jason with a sober expression. "What Hercules means is that no one can know of your betrothal to the queen. It is unconventional. And it might put both of you in danger."

"Yes, I know," Jason returned shortly. Ever since he had told his friends that Ariadne had proposed marriage, and he had accepted, they had been all concerned and frankly, a bit of a downer about it. _But what about this? Have you considered that?_ He was becoming impatient with it, still waiting for his friends to share in his happiness, to recognize that it was the culmination of his dream. "We have discussed this already. I understand."

"Nevertheless it bears repeating," Pythagoras said, warning in his gentle eyes.

"Can I just enjoy being in the same room as her?" Jason protested in exasperation, giving up the effort to glance at Ariadne while in the company of his friends. "Without it being some city wide emergency? I promise I will hardly speak to her."

"You will not speak to her at all," Hercules snapped.

"I can't be rude," Jason returned with a mischievous smile. "In fact I should probably offer my respects straight away."

"Are you slow-witted…?"

Jason raised his goblet, tipped it cheerfully toward the big man and drifted into the crowd, not interested in a recap of rules and expectations.

He took up a position a few steps away from Ariadne, in her line of sight, as the queen engaged in conversation with an older couple. He peered around the room, hoping he appeared nonchalant, sipping self-consciously on wine as he waited for the conversation to wind up. It took a few minutes but his persistence paid off, the couple finally moved away and Jason was in front of the queen before anyone else had an opportunity.

"Good evening your Majesty," he said formally, dimpling a smile as he drank in her appearance, soft blue material hugging her curves.

"You must bow Jason," Ariadne quietly admonished.

"Oh right." He quickly fell to one knee, fisted his hand over his heart and lowered his head, then regained his feet.

Ariadne’s lips quirked. "The knee was not necessary, but thank you.”

He flicked his eyebrows diffidently. "I think I may need some lessons in royal etiquette."

"You have needed those lessons for some time," she agreed. Their eyes met and they both gave a short laugh.

He leaned closer and said in a low tone, "When we're married you will need to stay very close so that I don't unintentionally cause a war by offending some foreign dignitary."

"When we are married you will not be permitted to leave my sight," she returned with a teasing smile. "I will want you beside me always."

Her playfulness and affection rendered him speechless, filled his heart with warmth. They had spoken lovingly in private, while she recuperated from her injury, talked of their future, shared their hopes, but she had never been so bold in public. And even though they were engaged in a private conversation, speaking in low tones, he was aware of her closeness, of the fondness in her eyes. It was something she would have shuttered in the past.

"You look beautiful," he murmured. "I don't think there has ever been a more beautiful queen."

Ariadne lowered her gaze shyly. "And you look very handsome," she offered, flicking her eyes approvingly over his form.

He couldn't help the grimace of disagreement. "I really don't like this outfit," he confided and was immediately appalled by his bluntness. "I mean it is beautifully made, thank you for arranging it.” He could feel his cheeks getting flush. "It's just not my style. I prefer a shirt and trousers."

"The colour is most becoming," Ariadne complimented, ignoring his discomfort. "It matches your eyes."

"I'm afraid I can't take any credit for the colour," Jason admitted. "It was what your seamstress recommended."

"Then she chose well," the queen returned. "I shall need to watch carefully that there is not another in this room who might seek to gain your affection tonight."

"I’m not interested in any other woman in this room," he answered honestly, but cringed a little at how awkward it sounded, how bad he was at romance. He diverted his attention to the crowd, and sipped on the wine. "Who are all these people?"

"Nobles mostly. Men of very old, very distinguished families. You will need to learn who they are fairly promptly. Forget about foreign dignitaries, you could start a war in here by saying the wrong thing."

Jason's eyes went wide, feeling the pressure to be diplomatic and not at all confident in his abilities.

"You will be fine," Ariadne reassured, flashing a tender smile. "I find you charming, I am sure they will as well."

"Middle aged men tend not to find me charming," he disagreed.

"But the middle aged women will adore you," she quipped. "And that is just as good."

Jason smiled half heartedly, unconvinced. "How often do you interact with the nobles?" And he was thinking of the future, wondering how often _he_ would need to interact with nobles.

"Very often," she replied, slightly rueful. "I rely on their goodwill, I could not rule without it."

He wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean?"

“I cannot rule the city on my own,” she chided. “If I am to get anything done I must have the support of the men with the most influence. I have to be very careful what I say to these people and how I treat them or I will never get my way.”

She used a tone as if it was self evident and Jason was embarrassed because it wasn’t evident to him. He had no idea how the city was run, how royalty worked, he just thought that the queen decreed and everyone obeyed. It was not something he had ever considered before, there had been no need, and now he realized that it was something he should know.  He needed to educate himself quickly otherwise he would be a bumbling buffoon at Ariadne’s side. 

"Don't look so horrified," she chuckled. "My problems will be yours soon enough. It is what you pressed for remember? Or are you having second thoughts?"

"No," he returned quickly, genuinely. "No, of course not. I just have a lot to learn. And I'm starting to wonder if I will be a benefit or a detriment to you."

"A benefit," she pronounced without hesitation, dark eyes shining. "Definitely a benefit."

He gave her a grateful smile and felt his heart surge with love. "If I were to kiss you right now, what kind of trouble would I be in?"

Jason's eyes flicked to a soldier standing stiffly against the wall nearby, not looking directly at them but watchful.

"You would be treated very roughly," Ariadne promised. "And then you would be executed for treason."

"Is that all?" he dismissed, and leaned forward teasingly.

"Don't you dare," she warned, leaning away, both amused and stern. "I believe it is time for you to move along. Cool your ardor."

"Cool my ardor?" he repeated, brows high, amused by such a strange turn of phrase, it sounded delightfully ancient. "No-one has ever complained about my ardor before."

"Your ardor is lovely," Ariadne returned. "Just very inappropriate."

"I am sorry to hear it," he said, and his smile faded, genuinely disappointed that even though they were betrothed, they couldn't be affectionate. And he understood why, he really did, discretion and dignity were important, but it still bothered him that he couldn't kiss the woman he loved whenever the feeling took him, couldn't even hold her hand.

Ariadne's expression fell in tandem with his but she managed to maintain a distant smile on her lips. "You should speak with Lord Darrion, in the purple over there," she said with forced brightness. Jason followed her gaze to a slim, dark haired gentleman. "He is a fan of the athletic games, I believe he would enjoy discussing your exploits in the arena."

He nodded. "Okay, I will. Thank you." He gave her a longing look, struggling for a moment with how to take his leave. "I probably won't talk to you again tonight," he said uncomfortably, dropping his gaze. "Hercules is paranoid that everyone will find out about our relationship, and he seems to think that you would be in danger if it were revealed." Actually Hercules seemed to believe that both of them would be in danger if the relationship became known, but he didn't want to appear ungallant. "I don't really share his concern, but I will indulge it for tonight and I wanted you to understand, if I don't approach you again."

"Your friends care deeply, and I appreciate it," Ariadne returned with a benevolent smile. "I can get my fill of you from across the room. And perhaps when the celebration has ended, we might meet, and talk privately."

"I would like nothing better," he said earnestly, relieved by her understanding. They gazed at each other for a long moment, and he was caught in the dilemma of knowing he should leave and not wanting to, before he gave her a final smile, determinedly put his head down and walked toward Lord Darrion to introduce himself.

 _It begins_ , he thought. Ingratiating himself with the Lords, trying to create a favourable impression, smoothing the way for marriage to Ariadne. Thus begins an arduous journey.

* * *

Hercules watched the interaction between Ariadne and Jason from across the room with mild disgust on his face. He had a roasted chicken drumstick in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other and was able to attack both with gusto while maintaining his view on the engaged couple.

"It's like he only has half a brain," Hercules griped to Pythagoras beside him, as he threw the stripped chicken bones into an empty receptacle on the table, and wiped his hands on the material at his stomach. The mathematician followed his line of sight to the young couple. "I mean look how close he's standing to her. He could get her with child from that distance. And everyone can see it. He's not even discreet." He took a deep swig of the wine, and grimaced at the taste of dregs. He poured what remained of the goblet into the refuse bucket and looked about him. "I need more wine. Where is that serving maid?"

Pythagoras regarded him with slight distaste. "Try to restrain your drinking tonight. Or this may be the first and last time you are invited to the palace."

Hercules blew out his breath dismissively. "I could drink all the wine in this room and it wouldn't affect me."

The blond man rolled his eyes, but didn't bother disagreeing. He shifted his focus from Jason and Ariadne to lazily survey the crowd, absently wondering if he might recognize any faces.

"Wonderful," Hercules uttered sourly. "Now he's made her laugh. How much more of a scene could he make?"

Pythagoras blinked in sufferance, and shook his head a little at his friend's displeasure.

"I don't know why I bother giving Jason advice," Hercules complained. "He always does the exact opposite of what I say. I should have said, go over and make love to that woman, and he probably wouldn't have gone near her."

"Maybe you should stop looking in their direction," Pythagoras suggested. "It is making you ill tempered."

"Someone needs to watch out for him," Hercules muttered. "He is like a child playing amongst wolves. Of all the women to fall in love with, he had to pick the most unobtainable."

"I think it is quite fitting really," Pythagoras demurred. "Jason is an extraordinary man with an extraordinary destiny, he was never going to find ordinary love."

The big man gave the mathematician a withering look, maintained his disapproving glare for a moment before continuing, "Now that Ariadne has decided to reciprocate his love, everyone is going to know about it. I mean look at the cow eyes on the both of them, they're so obvious. It won't be long before the knives comes out. Jason is going to get a knife in the back before he can turn around, and he doesn't even realise it. He is so caught up in the love affair he's given no thought to the consequences. It's bound to end in disaster. I really think we need to talk him out of this marriage."

"I believe you would have more luck convincing the sun not to shine," Pythagoras returned drily. "Marrying Ariadne has been Jason's ambition for years. And it's not like we didn't try to make him see sense. We could not have been less supportive. It really did seem impossible that they might share a future together and we told him that more than once. But now that the impossible has happened, and she has expressed her willingness to marry, there will be no talking him out of it."

Hercules pressed his lips together unhappily, unable to deny the truth in it.

"Perhaps when the relationship is revealed Jason will be accepted as a suitable match for the queen," Pythagoras argued hopefully. "He has after all proven his worth to the city many times."

Hercules huffed his disagreement. "He is an upstart, over-reaching, peasant nobody. Yeah, they're going to love him."

Pythagoras narrowed his eyes knowingly. "But he is not, is he?"

The big man raised a hand in protest. "Don't complicate things."

"He is from a royal family."

"It doesn't matter," Hercules returned with impatience. "Only you and I know it. To everyone else he is nobody. Even he doesn't know better."

Hercules' brows jerked up in delight as a serving girl passed close by. He nodded his head and raised his pewter to gain her attention. "To the brim," he politely requested, as she refilled his goblet. "And please return often." She gave a small demure bow in answer.

"Thank the Gods they're parting," the big man sighed, as he noticed Jason taking his leave from the queen. "Now everybody can go about their business like nothing happened."

"Nothing did happen," Pythagoras pointed out in exasperation. "You are possibly the only person in this room who even noticed them talking."

"I guarantee you I'm not," Hercules answered, troubled look on his face.

"Perhaps you should return home," Pythagoras proposed. "I don't believe you are in the right frame of mind for this event."

Hercules shook his head in disagreement. "I need to make a much larger dent in this banquet table. Who knows when I will eat this well again?  Have you tried the chicken? I don't know how they get it so tender, I may have to visit the kitchen later and give my compliments to the chef."

Pythagoras chuffed his fond amusement.

**The End**


End file.
